*SPOILER – vague writing about nothing below. Service will resume with the next post*
If you were to hold my hand, would you do it in Oxford? I wander around the city and imagine your touch and how the world spins a little bit faster with the thought, but not. If you were to hold my hand in Oxford, the memory of us would be a little piece of nothing, just as it is now. I like that. The memory of us lost in a city of memories never to be found again. If we existed to be lost in the first place. Or our memory. I look up between the buildings for a minute. Just a minute, to know I'm real and the thought of you is real and your hand in mine when the ground disappears beneath my feet is real. If you were to hold my hand, would you do it in Oxford? I could forget you then.